


Break Destiny

by Elihaha



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle of Camlann, F/M, I DON'T EVEN SHIP THEM, Morgana is good, morgana isn't evil, not technically anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1841815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elihaha/pseuds/Elihaha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana confides in Merlin about her magic, and- dragon be damned -he reveals his magic to her. Years later, she still wishes to defy her destiny and continue standing beside Camelot loyally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know why I did this. I don't even ship Mergana (much). Merthur is my thing. But hey, this was fun nonetheless.

He takes her hand in his, a tight grasp that even the strongest of the gods couldn’t break, and says, “No, please,” he begs, pulling the fearful woman towards him in an attempt to comfort, “I _do,_ I do. I swear I understand this feeling- this _fear_ you have.”

She stops her strut, and hisses, eyes narrowed and ablaze in outrage, “How could you possibly understand?” she demands, attempting to pull away, but his grip is steel for someone so thin; so frail. “You don’t have _magic_.”

Suddenly, his eyes grow tired and a thousand years he ages in a mere few seconds. He closes his eyes and finally gives into the temptation; goes against what the Great Dragon advised him to do. “I do. Have magic, I mean.” He opens his eyes, and they are a molten gold, as all the candles in the physician’s chambers grow infinitely brighter. The lights fade, and so does the gold in his eyes. “I am a warlock.”

Somehow, the words hold more power than any simple “I have magic” could ever have. She feels a twist in her gut at the words. She feels the blood drain from her skin and disappear altogether.

She holds his hand tighter when he tries to release her, terror clear as day in the endless blue of his eyes. “You?” she murmurs, suspicious, her voice shaking with disbelief. “How? Why are you here, in Camelot?”

“Because I have no choice. It is my destiny, to protect the King,” he says firmly, brows furrowing as he straightens his back and puffs out his chest in pride.

She glares at him, eyes glinting in the dim light of the candle flame. “Uther does _nothing_ for you - he only prosecutes your… _our_ kind. Why _protect_ him?” she spits venomously, and she tries feebly to remove herself from his grasp.

He shakes his head, his cobalt eyes widening. “No, not Uther, though I suppose I’ve prevented his death once or twice in my time here. But no; I must protect _Arthur_ , the Once and Future King. It is my destiny to make sure that he brings magic back to Camelot by united our kinds; by abolishing the ban on magic.”

The King’s Ward is silent as she thinks. She raises her pale green eyes to meet his blue ones. “How long have you suspected that I have power?” she asks. His breath hitches and he casts his look away guiltily.

“… For some time. Not long, but I feared for you. I would have told you, tried to help you sooner, but…”

“But what?” she demanded, temper flaring.

He hesitates. “The dragon told me of _your_ destiny, My Lady. It is not… pleasant.”

“The dragon?” she asks in shock, but shakes her head. “Never mind that- what is my destiny?” she asks with fear. She does not want to do something she will regret. She does not want to hurt the ones she loves most.

“To destroy Camelot. To bring about the death of Arthur by uniting with the druid boy - Mordred - as a force of evil. To become my worst enemy,” he whispers. “It is my destiny to try and stop you.”

“That is why you didn’t tell me.”

It isn’t a question. He nods, looking down.

“Can I defy my destiny?” she asks desperately. “I do not want…” her voice catches, “I do not want to hurt Arthur; he is like a brother to me. I’d _never_ deliberately hurt Arthur, surely you know that.”

He pauses. “You cannot defy your destiny, but… you can fail it,” he says.

“I can help you with your destiny,” she says with determination. “I will stand with you and bring magic back to Camelot, Merlin. I will not be evil.”

And with that, it is settled. The stand together.

Destiny’s glass cracks.

~oOo~

They stand in the forest, together, several years later, hand in hand as they face the war against Morgana’s half sister, Morgause, and Mordred. Arthur is dying, and Morgana cannot bear to look at him, knowing what will happen to him soon if he does not reach Avalon. He sleeps in pain.

Morgana is scared. The whispers of the wind carry the words of her sister, and she doesn’t want to do what she does, but she must. She must. It is her destiny.

But she remembers her talk with her love all those years ago, when she promised to fail her destiny. She knows that she must stand with him, she loves him. If not for Arthur, for him.

The glass cracked and splintered with every word she spoke or thought about avoiding her fate.

But she has to, she _has_ to, kill Emrys.

However, the loves the part of Emrys that is not prophetic, not Druidic. Gods, she loves Merlin so much.

Arthur is mere metres away. They may fight with him, and they fight hard, but Morgana knows she can’t keep it up.

The words and the fate of her prophecy rip at her soul, commanding her to do as she’s told or suffer the consequences of The Triple Goddess and the Old Religion itself.

She wants to suffer the consequences, she thinks desperately every night, if it means being with Camelot- with Merlin.

But she made a promise. She promised her sister, too.

_Now_ , Morgause whispers. _Rid us of Emrys_.

The witch turns to her warlock and she swallows the large lump forming in her throat, feels the churning in her stomach. She takes his face gently between her hands and joins their foreheads. She tells him she loves him. Nothing can change that. Tears form in her eyes when he repeats the saying. His eyes are just as glassy. She brings their lips together.

Before she has the chance- the chance to twist his head and snap his neck, fulfill her part of the prophecy, pain fills her, ripping through her stomach, as Excalibur runs her through. The sword is in Merlin’s hand. 

He cries, and he croaks, “I heard every word- every bloody _word_ you exchanged with your sister.”

She lets out a cry of regret, “I’m sorry,” she sobs. As the words become harder to force from her mouth, she gargles, “I’m sorry. It was my destiny.”

“I know,” Merlin says, and he holds her as she dies, whispering nothings into her ear about how no one can escape their destiny, how it wasn’t her fault. He tells her that she failed hers. That Camelot will prevail. Mordred and Morgause will fail, and she will have no worry.

She passes peacefully, knowing she failed her destiny but kept her promise; she knows Arthur will survive because Merlin and she spoke of summoning the Great Dragon to whisk him away to Avalon. She knows that all will be well, and she was not strong enough to ruin it.

Morgana dies happily.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! I was really experimenting here.


End file.
